Contact
by flootzavut
Summary: An unexpected dose of bad weather and bad luck leaves Gibbs trying to keep himself and Kate warm as they wait to be rescued. Another fulfilment of the Tumblr OTP prompt, "keeping the other person warm". Mostly friendship but can easily be read as more Kibbs than not for those so inclined!


**_Contact_**

* * *

 **** _Shit_. This is officially a nightmare, and if they get out of this in one piece, there's gonna be a new rule, and it's gonna be something about thermal underwear and heat packs and _really_ thick socks.

And they _are_ going to get out of this, _both_ of them, because the alternative is not something he's willing to contemplate.

"Kate, stay with me."

She's still shivering, which is a good sign, as far as he can remember. He doesn't like how quiet she's gotten, how slow to respond.

They had to get called out into middle-of-nowhere town on the day spring decided it didn't want to happen after all, and instead winter had returned with a blizzard, didn't they? That was just a given.

And if - no, _when_ \- they get out of this, Gibbs is gonna have Words (yes, capital 'W' Words) with whoever it was who was supposed to keep the agency vehicles full of gas and - crucially - with working fuel tank gauges. DiNozzo and McGee are on their way from DC, and for the first time in his life, Gibbs is unreservedly grateful for technology and the ability to give them his position to within a few yards.

His cellphone signal has gone out, but at least they're coming. He just wishes they'd _get_ here already. He's hoicked Kate out of her seat and into his lap in the name of shared warmth, and she didn't even protest. Now he's just doing his best to ignore the scent of her hair in his nose.

"Don't you _dare_ fall asleep on me, Agent Todd." He's not usually so sharp with her, but in the interest of saving her life, he'll do whatever is required. The fact she let him bundle her up and pull her close worries him. How floppy and compliant she's gotten since outright _terrifies_ him.

Compliance is _not_ normal Kate behaviour.

"'M tired," she murmurs.

He presses his lips against her forehead, squeezes her fingers, realises the skin of her hand has cooled down an unnatural amount. _Keep her warm_. He's trying to remember the first aid dos and don'ts, trying not to do her any harm through ignorance, and wishing really hard she wasn't so good about avoiding the extra doughnut or the odd peanut butter and jelly sandwich, so she'd actually have a little spare flesh on her bones and wouldn't be so damn susceptible to the cold.

"You can't fall asleep, Kate. You have to stay awake."

She makes a 'hmph' kind of noise into his throat, and he wraps his arms around her a bit tighter. " _Tired_ , Gibbs." She sounds so disgruntled; in a different situation, he'd be amused.

"I know, but you have to stay awake." It's about the only thing he's sure of right now. He can't let her sleep.

"No' sure can."

"Please, Katie. Try."

The next thing she says is garbled, but he thinks it's something else about being too tired.

"Try. For me, okay?"

She sighs resignedly, and he feels her nod against his chest. "'Kay."

At least in here they're partially protected from the elements, even if he doesn't think it's gonna help forever. He offers up a little desperate prayer that Tony will channel his inner Gibbs on the drive down and break any traffic laws necessary. Even in the snow, they shouldn't be too much longer - he's grateful they didn't catch the worst of it - but it seems like forever.

For a while they sit in silence. Gibbs looks down every few minutes to check her eyes are still open, and runs his hands up and down her back, over her shoulders, trying to share his warmth.

Kate has as much willpower as anyone he knows, but there's only so far even sheer stubborn tenacity can hold out against this creeping cold. He racks his brain to remember what he can do to help. She slurs something, and it scares him to find he can't understand her at all. She's fading, and his panic brings back a memory. Skin contact.

He looks down at her again, wondering how to best go about this in the confined space of a driver's seat. He pushes the seat back as far as it'll go, so at least he has room to manoeuvre without having to let go of her.

He shrugs out of his coat and strips off his sweater, curses his habit of always wearing an undershirt as he's unbuttoning his shirt. By the time he's down to his skin, he's shivering himself, but if it helps Kate it'll be more than worth it. He pulls her back against him as he tugs his shirt and coat back over his shoulders, then folds his arms around her.

She lets out a sigh and nuzzles in to his naked chest, sounding content. In another situation he might be singing hallelujah, but right now he just wraps himself around her as best he can, drapes his t-shirt and sweater over her back, and hopes this'll help. He tucks her hands against his stomach, trying to ignore his body's reaction, and her head back under his chin.

He balks at undressing _her_. For starters, he can't remember enough of the training to know if it would help - surely he needs to keep her covered up if it's possible? Her clothing is warm and dry at least, and it'll help her stay that way. And he's not even going near how much the idea of undressing a semi-conscious woman makes him revolt on a visceral level.

He slides a hand up her spine, under the layers of clothing, tugging her top out from her pants, and is desperately relieved to find the skin of her back is still warm to his touch. If her core is still warm, then all he needs to do is keep her that way long enough for help to arrive. He thinks. He hopes.

Okay, his whole team is gonna be re-certified in first aid, first chance they get, no excuses. And survival training while they're at it. Hell, he'll go with them to SERE school if it'll help. He never wants to feel so helpless and ignorant in the face of a threat ever again. Ever. Again. He tucks her shirt back in and folds his arms firmly around her, holding her close.

"Katie, you gotta stay awake. You have to. You _have_ to, okay?"

Another incoherent mumble, and then- "Tryin'." It's barely a murmur, and her voice is so soft he has to strain to hear it, but at least now he can understand her again.

"C'mon, Kate. They'll be here soon. Please. You have to hold on."

"Gibbs..." She still sounds way too sleepy.

How can he keep her alert? "What are you doing this weekend, Kate?"

She squints up at him. He supposes the surprise of him attempting small talk is as good as anything to prod her toward greater awareness. "Wha'?"

"Weekend? Plans?"

A small frown creases her brow. "Uh... jus'... no' much. Quiet. Laundry. Stuff." She shrugs.

Her eyes are bleary and confused. He tugs her a little closer.

"No date Saturday night?" Surely Kate is beating them off with a stick?

She shakes her head, then burrows in under his chin, her face against his skin. "No."

Part of him is unbearably curious. If Kate's not dating, it must be by choice, because she's - well, she's Kate. What kind of idiot would turn her down? But her reaction seems intended to forestall further enquiry, and he needs her to keep talking, not to shut down on him.

"I got a date with my boat," he tries.

"Mm?"

"Got some sandin' to do."

She laughs. "'Citing."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, Agent Todd."

He feels her smile against his neck. "'S an invitation?"

He's always told himself that Kate and his boat was a combination he wasn't ever gonna go near - way too much temptation - but in the circumstances... "Sure, if ya want."

"Sounds fun." She chuckles softly then lets out a sigh. "You're nice, Gibbs."

He blinks. That's not an adjective he's had applied to him very often.

"Nice an' warm."

 _Oh_. Well yeah, that makes more sense. And she's still shivering and talking coherently, and clearly she's not feeling like she's burning up or any of the other frightening symptoms of incipient hypothermia. He allows himself a tiny smidgeon of relief and presses a very light kiss to her hair, then looks at his watch again. Their rescue must be imminent, right? It had better be.

He doesn't think either of them is in immediate danger any more. Despite his lost layers, he's decidedly cosy with Kate snuggled into his bare chest (he's choosing not to question whether it's actually a physical thing or if he's just becoming a sap in his old age). But he'll feel a good deal better about life once they're in a car which has heating and is rapidly taking them back to warmth and safety and home.

He's all out of small talk, and cold and stress are now making _him_ sleepy. He's sure she'll do her best, but he suspects Kate isn't really in a fit state to be keeping him awake, and if he falls asleep he won't be able to keep an eye on her either.

"Katie?"

"Mmhm?"

"Talk to me." He has to at least make her try.

"'Bout what?"

" _Anythin'_."

There's a moment of complete silence, and then she giggles, and it's the best sound he's heard all day. Then she starts to talk, her voice definitely stronger now, about how she ended up in the Secret Service, and he falls asleep in the middle of an anecdote about the President's eating habits.

* * *

He doesn't wake up at the rap on the window, or even when the door's opened and the tail end of the blizzard blows icy air and a few stray snowflakes into the car. It'll only occur to him to get self-conscious about it later, after he's properly warm and has had a good night's sleep, but what wakes him up is someone unwrapping his arms from around Kate's back and lifting her from his chest.

That wakes him up and also has him protesting sleepily and trying to hold on to her - failing, because his hands won't work right. Through the fog he hears a familiar laugh and a voice that says "We'll take good care of her, Boss, don't you worry," and another that tuts like an old maiden aunt and starts fussing over Kate as the owner of the laugh carries her away.

In a matter of moments, Tony is back and Gibbs is awake enough to recognise him now, though still rather confused. He tugs his shirt and jacket closed, though his fumbling fingers can't manage the buttons.

Tony helps him out of the car and throws a blanket over his shoulders. "Decided to leave McGee back at the Yard to hold down the fort, but I brought medical reinforcements."

Gibbs is confused for a moment, then hears the comforting murmurs floating back from nearby: "Don't worry, Caitlin, we will get you properly warmed up and you'll be good as new, my dear."

He finds himself laughing as the penny drops. He's never been so damn relieved to hear Duck's voice.

He tries to shrug off the second blanket Tony is wrapping around him, but Tony is having none of it, and he's too weak and uncoordinated to argue. "That was good thinkin', DiNozzo." He can hear a certain degree of slur in his own voice and wonders if he was further gone than he realised. The winter wind should, he's pretty sure, feel colder against his face.

Tony leads him over to the car, and Gibbs _knows_ he's in worse shape than he thought when he can't bring himself to protest being treated like an old man. When he gets in, Tony piles more blankets on him and hands him a flask of what Gibbs fervently hopes is coffee. On his left, Kate is rolled up like a very cute burrito, but her eyes are more open and alert than they were the last time he actually remembers checking.

She mouths a silent thank you, they smile at each other, and when Kate somehow squirrels a hand from out of her wrappings and sneaks her chilly fingers over to his, he doesn't protest.

They're safe. She's safe. He doesn't even care if Ducky and Tony think it's weird how they're basically holding hands back here.

He lets his eyes close and his head fall back, lets himself breathe deeply for the first time in hours, and his fingers tighten around hers. They're gonna be okay.

 _~ fin ~_


End file.
